Hear You Me
by GlassCase
Summary: As a medium it is Arthur Kirkland's duty to help apparitions find their purpose and cross over to other side. His newest assignment is helping two brothers, one of which has died and other not what he appears to be. USUK other pairings may be included
1. Chapter 1

_Chapter 1_

It's hard to imagine being anything than what I am, and I don't mean in some drivel philosophical sense, I mean in who I am and what I am capable of, the ability of _sight_. My eyes pick up what others fail to notice, completely solid beings once with hopes and aspirations. At first it was difficult to tell them apart from any normal individual, to me, I can speak and very well hold hands with them if I so wish. But I suppose the one thing that allows me to see them for what they truly are, are within the eyes, gateways into a human's soul, but theirs are faded, lifeless.

When I first noticed my abnormal ability I thought there was certainly something wrong with me, how was I able to walk down the street and bump into someone who was not there to anyone else? I was frightened, especially in the dead of night. I vividly remember how they would wait for me at the post of my bed and stare hollowly, burrowing into my eyes. I would beg for them to leave me be, ask what they could possibly want, but it was no use at the time when I understood so little. Was I possessed or was I blessed? That is still one question I have yet to answer, but I've adjusted to the dead because I believe in my heart they are more afraid of me than I was of them.

What I must say for certain is that I'm able to see those who have died, ghosts I suppose would be the popular term for. Ghosts however do not exist in the present, past, or future. They have no timeline because quite frankly they have no purpose on Earth. The human's main purpose is to live and when that is taken away from someone, what else is left?

And that is where I am needed, that is my purpose and what I am. My name is Arthur Kirkland, I am a medium and I help those who have died find their way…home. Of course I would never imagine how far my ability would take until I met Alfred F. Jones.

* * *

><p>I lived in the United States for five years before I met Alfred, I won't dwell on that too much, but recently I've moved back to England…for personal reasons. When I was in America I never stayed in one city or town for very long, at the time I was living in a sensibly active fishing town a mere thirty minutes from a bustling city. I made my living almost entirely from being a medium (there were times I had to take a part-time job to make ends meet) and I had gotten quite good at it. Starting from the first time I met a ghost when I was eight, I was self-taught for the most part, but there are a few tricks I learned from others while I was trying to control my sight. One of the most important rules with ghosts is how to learn to differentiate them, making the process so much easier.<p>

When working with ghosts they usually fall into certain categories, the bothersome, the wicked, and the clueless. The bothersome are the most likely to find me before I find them. They will either follow me around wordlessly, or babble on about how they died and how horribly unfair it all is. Either way they don't exactly know what do to with themselves except be a constant bother to their family, friends, and most of all me. They know they're purpose deep down inside and usually only need a push in the right direction to find it.

The wicked do not approach me head on, they can sense however that I have a sight for them and will do whatever it takes to make my life hell. Common occurrences such as seeping into my dreams and showing me their deaths, or appearing in mirrors and creating visions of myself committing suicide, being killed, or even murdering my family. The wicked, unlike the bothersome do not ask for my help because they have found their purpose, tormenting the living. To get rid of them is as simple as playing daft, just ignoring them will rile them up at first, but quickly create boredom and then they're on their way to the next victim. I have yet to accomplish ridding one of this world completely, personally I believe they have no way out and will forever be chained here.

The last group, the clueless are the most difficult to work with, but fortunately also the rarest. These apparitions have no clue they have died and go about their day like any other. The clueless are often children. They will usually orbit around things that made them happy when they were alive and stay by them until their purpose is complete. Their purpose could be anything from having their body found and laid to rest, or seeing their family one last time. However trying to convince one of them they have died is as difficult as trying to get a response out of a brick wall, which I'm quite sure is impossible since I have yet to see otherwise.

Before meeting Alfred F. Jones I had thought of my ability and myself very highly. In fact, I was perhaps one of the best mediums in the United States, maybe I still am, not that I care much for the title anymore.

The day we met started out typical enough, well typical for someone who talks to ghosts. It was a quarter past twelve as I made my way toward my target, a bothersome that had been on my case for months and just wouldn't leave me be. It's a sunny day, but no one would have known it by looking at her, she was wearing a large overcoat with high boots, and clasping an umbrella over her head.

She casted me a hollow look behind her emerald eyes and a twisted frown, "What a nice change of pace, you're finally coming up to me and not the other way around, what's the special occasion, Arthur?"

We picked up our pace as we crossed an empty street and a few windowless buildings, "I want you to leave your husband alone, Elizabeta." I growled.

She shot my venomous scowl, "I have been! Can't you see? I haven't been around him for weeks, you said if I left him alone I'd find my purpose," She stopped abruptly then jabbed her long polished fingernail into my chest, "Well newsflash I'm still here, you idiot! I told you my purpose was to be with Roderich!"

"You were driving him up the wall, you were haunting him in his dreams!" I threw back at her. To an onlooker I was yelling at nothing, but I didn't seem to notice, I never cared what the living really thought of me.

My words must have struck a nerve as she clenched her teeth, "I did no such thing! How could I haunt my own husband? He needs me! I need him! That is my purpose!" She was crying, but could produce no tears, she'd been dead too long to show that human quality.

I switched tactics and exhaled calmly, "Not only are you supposed to let him go physically, but mentally as well, that's why it isn't working. Don't you understand that when you're with him in his dreams it only causes him pain? You've been dead for five years, Elizabeta, you're tears have dried up, let him go, please love, let him go." I urged, now holding her shoulders softly.

She looked down no longer caring to see my face, "When I died…it was raining, Arthur..."

I sighed in exasperation, "I know, you've told me countless times…you were rushing home to see Roderich, but the truck driver didn't see you in time." I didn't mean to sound as rude as I did, but I've long since grown tired of these sob stories, yes it was tragic, but enough was enough, everyone dies eventually and no one is an exception.

"Do you know why I was rushing?" She whispered.

I was stumped then, she never told me why she was in such a rush that night, I never thought it was of great importance, "Long day at work?"

Her soulless eyes looked up, "I was cheating…his name was Gilbert Beilschmidt and it was so frantic, thoughtless, and spur of the moment I- I needed to get home quickly before Roderich noticed. Now he'll never know what I did, and I feel like the worst human being in existence for that. All he knows is that I was his ever patient, loyal wife who could do no wrong…b-but I…" She began to choke on her words and I immediately pulled her into an embrace, knocking down the umbrella that shielded nothing but the illuminating sun.

Finally, a breakthrough. This is just what we needed, I could feel her spirit as it grew lighter, she was closing in to the other side.

I tipped her chin up with my forefinger and our eyes met, "He loves you with all his heart, and you love him so much you can't bear to leave him feeling deceived, but you are a wonderful person, Elizabeta. As long as you know what you did was wrong, you can forgive yourself. Do it for Roderich." I urged.

She exhaled, and cold air blew onto my face, "I need to think…please." Unlocking herself from my hold she lifted her umbrella up and walked on, slowly evaporating into air. I smiled despite myself, it was one step forward.

After that I decided I could reward myself with a cuppa, but not before calling Roderich to tell him the progress. Clients like Roderich are common, especially when facing a dead spouse or family member. Another common call I receive are to exorcise ghosts from older houses, I've learned that many apparitions are still attached to their homes even long after their family has moved from there and a new one appears.

I entered a nice enough coffee shop, and it wasn't too crowded despite the lunch rush in. I ordered my tea and sat by a corner facing away from the sunlight while I looked through my mobile for Roderich's number. I dialed and waited patiently, when he didn't answer I left a brief message for him to call back.

"Excuse me, sir, your Earl Grey tea." I looked up to meet a pair of violet tinted eyes behind a wired pair of glasses and exasperated smile.

I smiled politely to the younger man, "Thank you." I nodded, holding the cup up and gingerly blowing into it.

He nodded back and departed quickly. I sipped my tea and studied how he scurried through the employee doors and into the kitchen; no one seemed to give him a second glance…as if he wasn't even there. I narrowed my eyes and drank in the Earl Grey.

My back bristled immediately as I felt an almost instant warm presence and a rough poke to the shoulder, "Uh…'scuse me, but were you just talking to him?"

I turned around calmly, already having grown accustomed to that American accent and behind me was a boy not unlike the employee, tall and built with a golden head of hair, but behind those spectacles were a pair of vibrant sky blue eyes, I shuddered, "I-yes I did, is there something wrong?"

He looked confused, and it worried me as I watched his eyes dart back and forth in a frantic motion. Not a second later he grabbed hold of my wrist and pulled me from the table with a strength that almost seemed inhuman, "You need to come with me, now!" He urged.

I resisted of course, "What the bloody hell-!"

"There!" He pointed his index finger out at the violet-eyed man rushing by the cashier unnoticed by all, but us, "You're telling me you can see him? Him!"

I slapped the other's hand away, and furrowed my brows, "Yes, him! He gave me my tea, we didn't have a bloody conversation and I don't know him if that's what you're worried about." I hissed.

The fool grinned genuinely however, catching me by surprise, "Worried? This is the greatest day of my life! I'm not the only seeing him!" He cheered, arms pumped up.

I paused at that and stared at the violet-eyed teen critically, ah yes now I understood, "I should've known right when I saw him…he's dead isn't he?" I mumbled nonchalantly taking a small sip of my hot beverage.

The other nodded solemnly with a lengthy sigh, "As a doornail…"


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter 2 _

Well this was indeed interesting, the young blond next to me could see the ghost as well and of course I had to assume that two knew each other, by the way they both had matching features.

"What relation did you have to him?" I asked, eyes still set on the clueless apparition going about his day.

The man sighed heavily and looked down at his hands on the table, "He's my brother or err… was my brother? I don't really know the correct term for it or anything. All I know is that he died 6 months ago and only I can see him," he then cast a glance up at me, "until now."

I smiled sympathetically. I looked like I had a new case. "This is perfectly natural, what you're experiencing I mean." I didn't want the poor bloke to feel like he was losing his mind, but it appeared that he had already started to feel alone, it was never easy dealing with something you couldn't share with others especially when it was such a delicate subject like a deceased family member, " I take it you both were close?" I questioned.

He nodded solemnly, "We're twins, if you can tell…we shared everything, lot of the time people got us confused and while I thought it was funny he always took it kind of hard, actually he got depressed a whole lot even when I tried to cheer him up he never wanted it."

I nodded and took out a small notepad and pen from my carrier bag, "How did he die? Was he working here at the time?"

The blue-eyed man looked honestly surprised to see me pull out my notepad, "Woah wait a minute here, who are you exactly?" He asked with a dare I say dumfounded expression, it almost made me laugh at the way his eyes grew in an almost child-like wonder.

"I'm a medium, Arthur Kirkland at your service, I thought it easy to assume since I'm the only one able to see your brother, besides you of course."

His face stuck to the same expression, "A medium? For real? Like on TV?"

I had to chuckle this time, his face was absolutely priceless especially seeing it on a grown man, "You don't believe me? Of course its not like television, even though they're a little accurate its not as if I solve crimes I just help specters or ghosts as most people like to call them, finally be put to rest while also helping their loved ones at the same time."

His lips pouted at my chuckle, I could only assume he didn't like to be teased, " Sorry its just…I never really thought there were people that could actually see dead people, but I guess I'm not one to be skeptical anymore." He then gave a small smile, "By the way my names Alfred Jones, hah usually I'm good at introducing myself right away to people, guess you just got me all confused and backwards!" He laughed at himself good-naturedly and stuck out his hand towards me.

I shook it sternly, "Quite alright, I'm sure this is all just a big surprise to you, I understand completely and I know with my assistance you and your brother can both be happy."

Alfred smiled genuinely at that, and it lit up the entire room, "Thanks, really that means a lot. So uh, how do we go about this?"

I put my notepad and pen back in my bag, "I think it would be best if we took a walk outside and talked…I don't want your brother overhearing if he comes back to the table, I've learned the hard way that most apparitions do not liked to be talked about as clueless."

Alfred nodded in understanding and got up from his chair, "Totally got you." We walked towards the front of the coffee shop and being the gentleman I am I opened the door for him, "Wow thanks, most people around here just shut doors in my face, glad to see there's still some polite guys, I bet you get all the ladies with those Casanova moves." He wiggled his eyebrows jokingly.

I rolled my eyes, and smirked, "You American men just make it so easy for us, opening doors is just one small gesture that hardly takes any work at all."

We both took to walking on the pavement by all the small business shops, " Yeah, yeah, anyways do you have to write this all down?"

"Its just my way of looking back at things, my usual approach is asking you questions of course pertaining to your brother than when I'm sure I know you both enough and the cause for your brother's root problem I will talk to him."

Alfred face scrunched in confusion, "So you just talk to him and he goes to heaven or whatever? You don't even know him, why would he listen to a stranger and not his own brother?"

I sighed, I hate when the loved ones get defensive, "Its not your fault your brother is like this, Alfred. If it makes you feel better you can think of me as a therapist, I talk to both of you and try to find what is chaining your brother here, and I rely the difficulties you both are having with each other, I'm like a messenger in that I tell him what you have to say and of course I put my two cents in as well."

Alfred was quiet, as he looked up, then back at me, "So does it work all the time, this method of yours?"

"I would say 7 out of 10 times I am successful, It always depends on the severity of the case, not one ghost is alike, they're all different with their different problems."

Alfred seemed much more subdued out here then in the café, perhaps he liked louder areas where he could be boisterous? Whatever the case he was much more reserved. "Well I guess that's better than not doing anything. I want to help him anyway I can, I don't want to feel like he's there but not…you know?"

I understood, "Yes of course. You're doing the right thing, Alfred."

"I hope so."

Instead of walking around aimlessly, we chose to sit on wooden bench near a playground. I took out my pad and pen and turned towards the young American, "Alright Alfred, you need to answer me as truthfully as possible, please don't hold anything back, one word can mean everything to your brother."

Alfred's Adam's apple bobbed up in down nervously, but he seemed ready enough, "Yeah I get it, but first things first his name's Matthew, I liked to call him Mattie though."

"Alright, Mattie it is." I wasn't really one for nicknames, but who was I to judge? "First question, how did he die, and please don't skip on the details unless of course they make you uncomfortable."

Alfred took a deep breath and let it out slowly, "That would be the first one."

"Is this difficult for you to answer? We can always skip it for now." I assured him.

His cerulean eyes stared at me blankly, almost unfocused, they were haunting, but in a way that was completely different from his brother's. I could tell he was remembering. I could tell it in his eyes, his slightly parted lips, even his hands as they clasped onto his lap, "No. I'd rather just get it over with. It was a car accident. We uh, went to a bar celebrating our birthday. Our parents couldn't fly in that weekend and it was weird, them not being there, so our friends came and surprised us. It was nice. I was drunk, we were drunk actually. A friend offered to drive us home, but first he went to the bathroom. I convinced Mattie to just let me drive, I didn't want to wait any longer I told him. I didn't want to wait two minutes for our friend to take a piss. After that I'm sure you can guess what happened."

"Do you remember driving?" I could tell this was getting difficult, the pain in Alfred's eyes were far from concealed.

"It felt more like I was flying. But maybe I was, I mean at one point we were flying through the air. The news vans got there almost as fast as the police, and I remember being wrenched out the driver's seat, all the glass was broken, my body felt broken, I didn't see what happened to Mattie, I didn't want to open my eyes. I guess I was trying to convince myself it was all some dream." He ended with a hushed voice.

I really couldn't stand this part.

I was terrible at comforting others, it was in my job description, but I felt out of place doing it. I gingerly touched his shoulder, there was nothing about touching in the job description, but it made me feel like I was there actually doing something, and Alfred, god his eyes could produce thousands of unsaid emotions it took nearly all of me not to ask to shut them. There were too many emotional ties in this case, it was obvious he blamed himself for his brother's death, and what he said did point the finger at him, but blaming himself only made it all the more difficult.

"You don't need to say anything more about that. I'll ask any additional information if I need it." I wrote down a few keynotes for myself to look at a later time. "Uh, oh yes, so I assume he spends most of his time "working"?" I asked, from what I had seen in the coffee shop Matthew was a busy bee.

The American nodded with a huff, "Always working in that stupid café, we both worked there actually, but I just can't bring myself to work anymore, so I just stay and watch him. Nobody bothers to talk to me, they know there's nothing they can say. I've tried talking to him, but he ignores me completely and just tries to take orders from people who can't hear or see him anymore until you came along."

"Did his job make him happy?"

Alfred looked thoughtful for a moment, but shrugged, "It was just a run of the mill job for both us, we were in college at the time and we just needed something. It was just so terrifying seeing him there after he died, the first few months I stayed clear of that place, but then I just started going there everyday to try to talk him…I just felt like I was going crazy. He never has any kind of expression on his face, he just looks like he's trying to get by, but I just don't understand why he's always there and no where else. It doesn't make sense."

Alfred was a little more than frustrated by the end of it, and I didn't want to push him, "You know Alfred, this is a sort of long process, it will take much longer than a few days so what I'm say is, we don't need to do all the questions right now. I can come back tomorrow if you'd like, and we can take as long as you like."

He didn't look comforted in that, and shrugged his shoulders again, "I don't really…I don't really have much to do besides this."

I blinked in surprise. "Well I'm sure your studies keep you busy, or are you out of college now?"

"Oh uh no. I dropped out after Mattie…" He flushed and trailed off.

"Another job perhaps?" I asked.

"Unemployed at the moment. The only reason our apartment hasn't been evicted is cause my parents are paying for the rent, I guess they still want me to look after the place. They don't talk to me anymore though, my mom will come and visit, but just to clean up everything and leave right after."

I was left almost speechless, almost, but I remained neutral, I wasn't one to judge how Alfred handled his brother's death, but it was hard to believe that he gave his life away like that. Looking at him, he was a healthy, attractive, young man. But underneath that appearance he was a drop out, unemployed, with nowhere to go and nothing to do. I suppose one could say that not just one brother died that night, both of them had.

I told Alfred to get some rest and we'd meet at the same bench tomorrow evening. He complied hesitantly and left soon after, vanishing in the crowd.


	3. Chapter 3

_Chapter 3_

I was a little unclear on how to approach Alfred the next day. I was used to clients losing their loved ones and confiding in me, but if I was to be completely honest Alfred's connection with Matthew was perhaps the strongest I've ever seen. I wasn't exactly sure what type of spiritual bond twins had since I've never dealt with them before, but it was obvious that once Matthew died, Alfred had as well, albeit metaphorically speaking. I wanted to help both of them anyway I could, but it seemed like Alfred was holding back and I needed him to let go before I could even speak to Matthew.

While I was waiting by the playground I made a call to Roderich and was once again left with his voicemail. Being the punctual man I knew he was, I was a little worried and anxious when he didn't call back the day before and he wasn't even answering his phone. What made matters worse was that Elizabeta was nowhere to be seen and that was extremely rare for her, lately she had been a daily occurrence in my life, and to have her just vanish was bizarre.

Vividly I remember her needing time to think after our last run in, so I suppose her absence made more sense than Roderich's. I decided after my meeting with Alfred I would have to track them both down personally. What happened yesterday with Elizabeta was a break through and I wasn't about to let that go just because someone didn't feel like answering their phone.

While waiting for Alfred I read a bit of _The Comedy of Errors_ and made it to the fifteenth page when he decided to make his presence known.

I looked up, still holding the paperback in my hand and saw him beam down at me, his head overshadowed the brightest part of the sun and created a sort of halo affect.

"I know that one" he gestured to the book, "It's the one with the twins, right?"

I almost chuckled at the irony, I didn't really even think about it when I grabbed it this morning, only that I haven't read it in sometime and that I had a nostalgic yearning for Shakespeare's more humorous work. "Yes it is, I don't suppose you and your brother were mistaken for one another as much as they were?"

The golden haired boy shrugged his shoulders and plopped himself down next to me on the bench. "Yeah, but like I said yesterday Mattie hated when that happened."

I nodded, remembering something along those lines, "Yes, uh, well how have you been since yesterday?" I asked, turning to him.

Alfred looked away wistfully, taking in the scenery around us, "Thinking. I went back to the café after I left, I don't really know why. I kind of have my hopes up though, you know?" He looked back at me, eyes shining.

I nodded, though it unnerved me how often he visited the café. "That's a good thing to feel, but I would highly urge you not to visit Matthew everyday. I know its difficult, but there really isn't any benefit in it for either of you. It'll be that much harder to let go if you try to see him everyday as if he's alive, do you understand?"

I could see a flash of pain in Alfred's eyes and I felt guilty for being so blunt about it, but there was really no other way around it.

"Yeah, I get it. It's just hard, but I'll try not to visit. I can't promise that it'll never happen though."

At least he complied easily. "That's fine, take it gradually if you'd like. Maybe just visit once a week, than once every two weeks and then so forth, as long I see you making some progress."

He bit his bottom lip as if he was holding something back, but then shrugged those broad shoulders of his again and slumped down, "Yeah sure."

It's hard to try had have a serious conversation when the other was slumping and pouting like an overgrown adolescent, but I prevailed on and traded my book for my notepad and pen. "Well shall we?" I asked.

The man-child sat up a bit and turned towards me completely. "Shoot."

I tried a smile, and looked down. I didn't feel comfortable with all his attention directed towards me and while I knew it was rude not to make eye contact, well…"Uh, well lets see, I thought about your case quite a bit yesterday, and I came to the conclusion that I could ask a lot of driveling questions about your brother, but then I wouldn't get to the root of it, would I? So how about instead you talk about him."

The boy looked perplexed and I didn't particularly blame him. "Talk about him? Like his personality?"

"Anything, anything that comes to mind. I want to hear everything you have to say about him." I prompted. It wasn't a highly unusual thing for me to request from a client, though I didn't do it very often especially if their loved one had just recently died.

Alfred shuffled his feet about anxiously, kicking around whatever leaf or piece of rubbish in his way before huffing and looking back up at me. "Well…okay, but I thought this was gonna be a question thing, didn't think I had to tell you everything."

"Does it make you uncomfortable?"

He looked agitated, the way he bit his lip, locking his eye fiercely onto mine whenever I would take a chance and look up from my notepad.

"I don't know, maybe. Well whatever, I'll do it for him. I guess I could start off with us growing up?"

I nodded encouragingly. "Splendid place to start."

"Okay, well my first real memory growing up was when my mom bought this stuffed bear for us. I remember being kind of pissed that she didn't buy two, so we were always fighting over it. He named it one thing, I named it another. When it was his turn to have it he would try to sleep with it and I would steal it and hide it places so he couldn't find it. One day I couldn't remember where I hid it and we never found it after that."

I wrote something and noticed he was trying to take a peak. "No looking." I reprimanded lightly and he pouted again. "Did you two fight over things often?"

"I thought you weren't asking questions." He asked with a raised brow.

"I can't not ask anything."

"Woah!" He shouted so suddenly my heart almost stopped. "That's a double negative, aren't you British supposed to be grammar nazis?" He chastised with an uneven smirk as he tried to meet my eyes directly, but I wouldn't allow no such thing. Damn twat, almost gave me a heart attack!

"Excuse me for not living up to your British expectations, and that statement was far more offensive than my grammar mistake." I growled.

"Aww, I'm just messy around," he patted my shoulder roughly, "I don't like being serious for so long, besides you definitely fit into my British expectation, pale, kinda moody, smell like rain-"

"Excuse me?" I interrupted; edging away from his touch with what I was sure was a horrified and reddened face. Damn this pale complexion.

"Did I say something?" He asked, the hand that touched me still midair.

I groaned, he was a bloody child! "You just say and do whatever you like, is that it?"

"Mostly. I always got Mattie in trouble cause of it." He stated blankly.

I raised an eyebrow at that. "Your brother seemed to be the one who paid a lot for your careless-uh" my breath hitched and I stopped before I said anymore, I immediately regretted it. "I'm sorry I didn't mean that." I added quickly, but it was too late.

While I looked down, Alfred would look to the side and neither of us wanted to meet eye to eye. "I know. I was a pretty shitty brother." He sighed, voice wavering.

Oh god. What have I just said? What was wrong with me? I've never spoken ill to a client's face before, and to say such a thing to him when he already blamed himself for his brother's death. I cocked it up. I had just moved us three spaces back with that unmindful statement.

"You don't need to feel bad, Arthur." He reassured me, as if I was the one who was hurt, "I know it. Everyone knows it, but no one ever says it. Hell, they don't even talk to me, let alone look at me. After the accident …no one asked how I was feeling, no one even yelled at me or cried to me when it happened. My parents just held each other, my friends just cried together. I wasn't even worthy to be looked at. So…I'd take your blame over being ignored any day. I like it a whole lot better actually."

"I'm so sorry, Alfred. I-…I truly am. It wasn't my place to say anything of the sort. You don't deserve to be blamed, and it's absolutely maddening that you're being ignored like that…" I said in disbelief, all the people that Alfred depended on completely shutting him out was unbelievably cruel and I could hardly stand it.

The young blond didn't seem affected by my horrified expression and instead sighed again. "I know this is gonna sound like something from all those depressing movies, but I really wish it was me instead of Mattie."

"Don't say such a thing! That's the worst thing you could say!" I didn't hesitate to shout despite the looks I was getting from others walking by.

Alfred appeared momentarily shocked by my outburst, but regained his voice. "But its true, and I might as well be. No one's going to give me a second chase anyway. You only get one life and I've completely screwed mine up, and it's not just about me. Mattie suffered his whole life because of me. Every memory I have with him I always managed to make everything worse."

It was dead silent after that, there was the faint buzzing background of birds chirping and children playing, but I ignored it all.

We were both unmoving until Alfred turned to me expectedly, "Are you going to write that down?"

"No." I wouldn't. There was no point in writing down any of this. It was just too much to handle in one sitting, never once I had encountered someone so broken, with all my other clients there was always a sense of moving forward and having family and friends to be there for them in their time of need. But not Alfred, he had no one to turn to. "I think. I think that may be enough for today," I rose up so abruptly that both my notepad and pen fell before I even had time to register it.

Alfred's expression immediately mirrored horror as I took my leave. "Wait! Come on Arthur! I'm sorry, please, can we start over, please?" He attached himself to my wrist and I instantly tensed, "you're...you're the only who'll talk to me…please?"

I came up with a miserable excuse, "I have other clients to attend to. Tomorrow we can start over again."

The American shot up at. "Then I'll come with you! Please, Arthur?"

Why was he so desperate to talk to me? I only made him resurface painful memories. I'm sure they were hurting him; they were hurting me just having him talk about them. Also, I wasn't comfortable with his hands gripping my wrist, they were unusually warm, but I suppose when only coming into contact with the ice-cold skin of a ghost any type of warmth from a blood circulating body is unusual.

"I don't normally mix my clients together, most of them are uncomfortable with others knowing about their ghost problem, besides myself of course." I stated, though I didn't think the statement would deter Alfred.

Surprising, he loosened his hold a bit and I shook him off gently, as not to be rude. "Well. I-okay…I understand. I mean I get how I would ruin things." His face sagged as he put his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

I hated how his face was so damn easy to read, his hurt expression hurt me, I grumbled in annoyance with myself. "Fine, fine. You can come, but you are to be _invisible_, understood?" I emphasized invisible, he had to remain quiet especially while I was looking for Elizabeta, who hated loud noises which I could only presume was because of how her life ended, with the sound of screeching against pavement.

His face lit up and he presented me a white-toothed grin, "I won't bother you at all, promise!"

"Well you're becoming more pestering than a bothersome." I half joked.

"Bothersome? Like a bothersome person?" He asked mildly bewildered.

"More like a bothersome ghost. I um, I have categories for different types of ghosts. Bothersome are always on my trail bothering me, as their name entails." I explained collecting my belongings as I started to make my way across the street with Alfred quick on my tail.

His eyes boggled and I caught a hint of fear in them. "O-oh. Are there any here right now?"

"Why? Frightened?" I smirked.

He huffed. "N-No way! Just checking! Haha! So uhh there aren't any, right?"

I smiled, his childishness was a little endearing, in a moronic way of course. "No. Not to worry, but I am actually on the hunt for one right now."

He flinched at that,"….but I thought you said they followed you, not the other way around."

"Most of the time, but this one is hiding for whatever reason…" I shrugged. The both us were already half towards the location I frequented with Elizabeta.

Alfred was quiet and his pace slowed down considerably behind mine as if I would shield him from whatever monstrous demons he had conjured in his mind.

"There really is no reason to be afraid. Most ghosts are just like your brother, misunderstood and just as afraid as you are."

He still shuffled his feet slowing behind mine and I swear I felt a warm, phantom touch on my shoulder.

"Can I ask a question?"

I nodded. At least he was comfortable enough to speak. It was hard to trying to reassure others that most ghosts were nothing like the ones in mainstream cinema, so it was just best to answer all their questions, no matter how preposterous they were.

"Do you know what kind of ghost Mattie is?"

I perked up at the question.

"Well…I don't have everything I need to determine that yet, but I suppose with the way he only inhabits one place and is still "working" he would have to be a clueless."

"Hey my brother's not clueless! He's the smartest guy I know!" Alfred burst out, and I almost tripped over myself in surprise.

"I didn't mean it like that, git!" I yelled back, turning around full force. "His spirit hasn't come to terms with the fact that he's died and as long as it's unaware of it, he'll never leave that damned coffee shop!"

Alfred's face sobered, "Oh. Sorry, man."

I grumbled and turned back around to start walking, "It's fine. You didn't know, but please no random shouting…it throws me off and scares the apparitions away."

"Right, sorry I forgot to use my inside voice." He chuckled softy.

"I wasn't aware you had one."

He closed his eyes, and grinned, finally stepping in line with me.

"Can I ask you more questions?"

I looked towards the direction we were walking in. "Might as well."

"Okay, tell me about your power or whatever, how'd you get it?"

"Power? You make it sound like I'm a comic book superhero." I drawled in distaste.

His cheeks reddened and he sputtered, "H-hey comic book heroes are the best! I didn't mean it like that though! You know what I meant!"

"Inside voice, Jones." I warned.

He rolled his eyes, "Yes Mr. Kirkland, now answer the question."

I smirked at the "Mr. Kirkland", much better than that dreadful "man" from earlier. "Well I've been told that I was born with sight, but I didn't realize till I was a bit older. It's not easy to discern ghosts from the living when you're not paying attention, there are key differences of course."

"What's it like?" He asked tilting his head.

"What? Seeing them?" I blinked in confusion.

"Well kind of…I mean, what's like meeting one?"

"Its…it's difficult to put into words." I faltered lamely.

Alfred arched an eyebrow at that, but then smiled. It unnerved me terribly. "Then show me?"

I looked at him incredulously and we both stopped to face one another, "Show you how?"

His hand inched towards the one at my side, I did nothing as he linked our index fingers together, "How does a ghost's touch compare to this?"

I was frozen in place. My hand was sweating, I felt embarrassed beyond belief to being having such a reaction. I didn't even care to know what Alfred thought about me in that moment.

"I…It doesn't. Not exactly, I mean."

He grinned, teeth on full display as he let go.

"Replaced me already, Arthur?" Called a playful voice.

I turned and there stood Elizabeta, in the same outfit as yesterday and all the days before that.

She smiled mirthfully, "Am I interrupting?"

I grumbled incoherently at that, almost positive that my face was beet red with all the telltale signs of embarrassment.

"Nice of you to show up." _At the worst of times…_

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><p><em>AN: So of course when I finally start to feel inspired to write I have a second midterm and two essays due. orz_

_Note: I edited chapter 1, to those who've already read it before the editing there's nothing new, I actually cut it in half so it's not as chunky. I figured the flashback at the beginning might be deterring some people from reading (that and my grammar). I tend to make introductions uninterestingly long, so yeah. Also thank you to those who reviewed (and tried to guess what's going on with Al, I love to see your predictions!), and faved, and story alerted, I'll try my best to keep the story updated often! _


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